


The Letters of Marius to Enjolras

by xxFeuerFrei



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, just kidding, napoleon kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxFeuerFrei/pseuds/xxFeuerFrei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marius is a little shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letters of Marius to Enjolras

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posting from tumblr because it's finals week and I won't be writing anything new, sorry! also the tag needed some assistance. this was a gift for jaz!

With the rain pattering against the window and a cup of hazelnut coffee in his hand, Marius realized his Friday evening was going to amount to nothing more than take-out pizza and marathoning mediocre horror flicks. He found himself not minding, of course, because a certain blond was perched between his legs and unfortunately very enthralled with his laptop. Since Enjolras had discovered Courfeyrac’s “food porn” blog had roughly eleven times more followers than his politically charged, well-written page did, he was determined to recruit more. As he exhaled, he leaned against his (not) boyfriend’s chest, “What are we ordering tonight?”

Their friends hoped they would drop the suffix soon. It had been five months since the pair started the painstakingly slow transition between embarrassing gazes across the bar to finally being able to hold each other’s hand while they went on their daily lunch (not) dates. Jehan had been the first to comment, something offhandedly to Marius, which only flustered the freckled male. He hadn’t quite realized how obvious he was being. However, there was nothing subtle about showing up to Enjolras and Grantaire’s dorm with a venti skinny soy vanilla latte because he knew Enjolras had his micro final later that day.

They were now at the stage of (not) living together. Enjolras still kept his place and referred to Marius’ as “his” and not “their’s.” When Combeferre noted the lack of books on the blond’s typically overcrowded shelf, he simply brushed it off. It seemed stacks of Rousseau, Pettit and Hobbes had migrated to the floor of Marius’ bedroom.

Enjolras’ toothbrush had taken residence next to Marius’ on his bathroom sink. In the closet hung the blond’s enormous collection of red cardigans (some of which had not originally belonged to him.) His favourite pair of Pendleton boots laid at the front door. The fridge was becoming more and more populated with chocolate covered pomegranate seeds and zucchini bread. Marius hadn’t noticed.

"Tomato basil pizza?" Marius chirped, leaning his chin on the shorter male’s shoulder. The other hummed in agreement, "As long as there’s no pineapple." As much as the chief loved Courfeyrac, he would never again leave the brunette in charge of ordering pizza. Enjolras tilted his head back, possibly the first time he glanced away from his screen in the past three hours, "There’s cash in my wallet."

Slumping his shoulders in defeat, Marius realized he wasn’t getting much of his (not) boyfriend’s attention tonight. He simply padded into the kitchen and called for delivery. Before returning to the unaffectionate Apollo’s side, something caught his eye. In the bin, perched very purposely in sight, lay his copy of a required text from last semester’s history course. He rolled his eyes while chuckling fondly, because of course Enjolras would throw it away.

"Is there a reason you don’t like Balthazar?" He called from the doorway. Enjolras, for all his intelligence and stature, gave a dumbfounded look, "Excuse me?" The freckled male crossed the boundary between the rooms. "The pug," he clarified before clicking his tongue, "When Jehan asked if we wanted to babysit, you passed." This pug was in fact the newest addition to the Courfeyrac-Jehan household. The language in which they spoke of him made it clear why Feuilly had been previously under the impression they had actually went ahead and properly adopted. (The gift was still endearing, and Courfeyrac rocked the papoose with Balthazar in it.)

"I told him I was busy," he started as his eyes shifted back to his laptop, "Which is true. My internship starts on Wednesday." Ignoring the fact that the couple was asked, not exclusively Enjolras, allowed him to remain blissfully ignorant that most of the collective already regarded them as (not) living together. Marius’ flat would have been perfect for the chubby angel to lounge for a week, but he was still in capable hands with Joly.

"Is it because Josephine had a pug?"

This caused the clicking of keys to stop. There was a pause, the question lingering in the air. A very calculated chuckle escaped his lips, “Don’t be ridiculous, Marius.”

The redhead placed a knee on the couch, leaning forward, “I hope before long to crush you in my arms and cover you with a million kisses burning as though beneath the equator.” Enjolras was granted a ridiculous peck on his cheek as his hand landed on Marius’ chest, “What has gotten into you!”

He only grinned wider, placing himself between the blond’s thighs as his arms coiled around his waist, “Your tears rob me of reason, and inflame my blood. Believe me it is not in my power to have a single thought which is not of thee, or a wish I could not reveal to thee.” Enjolras placed a hand over Marius’ mouth, to stop the effable flowing of words and kisses, “Marius!”

Grasping both of Enjolras’ wrists, pulling him forward for a chaste kiss before murmuring against his lips, “Adieu, adorable Enjolras; one of these nights your door will open with a great noise; as a jealous person, and you will find me on your arms.” The realization flashed in his eyes. He curled his knees to his chest, trying to edge a chuckling Marius off the couch, “You are /not/ reciting his love letters to me!”

With an arm under Enjolras’ legs, he hoisted the petite male off the couch, “You are wicked and naughty, very naughty, as much as you are fickle. It is unfaithful so to deceive a poor husband, a tender lover!” Groaning, Enjolras resigned himself to be onboard for the rest of this absurd escapade, with huffed cheeks and a furrowed brow.

An hour or so later, chest heaving and sweat marking his forehead, Enjolras coiled closer to the other. As he pressed an affectionate peck to Marius’ knuckles, the blonde cleared his throat, “So I suppose you found your book in the trash?” The redhead wore a sated smile as he tugged the duvet around their shoulders, “Sweet and incomparable Enjolras, what an extraordinary influence you have over my heart.”


End file.
